


Winter

by GreyWeeknds



Series: 30 days writing challenge [25]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:56:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyWeeknds/pseuds/GreyWeeknds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall has always hated apples, the way they taste really sourly and that the juice never disappears from the tip of his tongue. It’s not only the disgusting taste that he thinks is horrible, but it’s the scent. The thought about it makes him cringe, and his whole body seems to cry at the image of it. And the way it feels like when he has to hold it, it’s scary. It’s all bare and naked, and in some way it feels like real human skin, and not the shell from some fruit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter

Niall has always hated apples, the way they taste really sourly and that the juice never disappears from the tip of his tongue. It’s not only the disgusting taste that he thinks is horrible, but it’s the scent. The thought about it makes him cringe, and his whole body seems to cry at the image of it. And the way it feels like when he has to hold it, it’s scary. It’s all bare and naked, and in some way it feels like real human skin, and not the shell from some fruit.

Sometimes he tells himself that he doesn’t hate apples; that it’s just something that he imagined. But when he licks it, small drops of spit that embraces the red colour, he remembers that it’s not only something that he has made up in his own head, that he really does hate the fruit.

By the look of it, you would never guess that the blonde dislikes the round form so much as he does. Because every Friday when he comes home from work he goes to the supermarket and buys a whole bag of them, both green and red ones. The cashier only refers to him as ‘the apple kid’, but he doesn’t have the power to correct her, that his name is Niall Horan, and not apple kid.

His eyes are glued on the green colour, reminding him about those eyes that once looked at him with so much admiration instead of emptiness. It had been a pleasure to be greeted every morning by a peck on the cheek from the former lover, smelling the terrible scent from the fruits that the other lad loved.

He remembers their first kiss that they shared, right under the sunset as the mosquitoes had been buzzing together in a beautiful pace. The sky had been in a tint of crimson, and fingers had been traveling up and down on the other person’s body, lust as visible as the sight for their eyes. He could still feel those soft lips brushing against his, tasting nothing but apples. He had hated the taste already then, but he had forced himself into accept it as it had been the only way for him to have his tongue dancing with Harry’s in those hot summer nights.

It had been the taller teen that had saved him from a troubled childhood; bruises that covered his body like clothes had been nothing but a distant memory. The younger bloke had wanted to protect him, love him forever, or that had been what he had said anyway. Because Niall doesn’t mean anything anymore for him, and that makes his heart feel as cold as the winter.

He promised himself to keep on doing this on a daily basis, eating an apple as his eyes were closed peacefully. That is the only way for him to still feel the taste from the lips that once had been meant for his. He tries to ignore how much finds it disgusting as the juice finds it way to his the inside of his mouth, and he has to bite away the tears that wants to slip out from his blue oceans. It hurts to know that he has to keep doing this, feeling unappreciated and unwanted, but it hurts even more to know that he will never be loved again by the one person who meant the most to him, and that taste is even sourer than any apples in the world can ever be.

 


End file.
